


For Good

by Tamyou



Series: Harry Potter Tumblr Prompts/Drabbles [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Confident Draco Malfoy, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Draco Malfoy is a Tease, Dumbstruck Harry Potter, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Post-War, Pre-Slash, Smitten Harry Potter, Smug Draco Malfoy, Tall Draco Malfoy, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 07:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17893973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamyou/pseuds/Tamyou
Summary: "I want tall Draco, all broad shoulders and swagger. I want him to be dripping with confidence, so much so that it fills up spaces and you can’t tell if it’s just his personality or if he’s really that built. He isn’t crying. He isn't the Draco Malfoy that he remembers."OrThe Draco Malfoy we deserve. And Harry, too.





	For Good

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Tumblr [post](https://buttertyrant.tumblr.com/post/182724136491/) by [spookywoods](http://archiveofourown.org/users/spookywoods/).
> 
> "I want tall Draco, all broad shoulders and swagger. I want him to be dripping with confidence, so much so that it fills up spaces and you can’t tell if it’s just his personality or if he’s really that built. When he’s not emotionally and physically malnourished from the shadow of the war, he’s fit, strong, muscular, and fills out a suit like no one else at a Ministry gala. And that’s when Harry drops his champagne flute. When Draco turns around and Harry realises the beefcake he’s been eyeing all night has the same pale, tear stained face that haunts his dreams. But he isn’t pale now. He isn’t crying. He isnt the Draco Malfoy that he remembers."

_What in Merlin’s name-_

It’s only his old Seeker’s instincts that kick in that save Harry from dropping his champagne flute to the floor with a spectacular and no doubt embarrassing crash. Unfortunately, those instincts don’t stop his jaw from doing the same thing as he stares, his brain short-circuiting at the mouth-watering sight in front of him.

Draco Malfoy, tall and handsome and broad-shouldered and utterly, absolutely _delicious_ , stands on the other side of the table, breezily chatting with the Head of the Department of Mysteries and two other Aurors Harry vaguely remembers from Auror Training. He is dressed in tight, greyish-green formal robes that accentuate everything Harry finds worth appreciating, his slivery blond hair parted at the side and slicked back, looking soft and silky and making Harry want to reach out and touch it. He smiles politely at the Aurors, a tiny dimple forming in his left cheek. _Did Malfoy always have dimples?_ Harry couldn’t conjure enough active brain cells to recall.

It’s like he is a completely different person, Harry thinks as he drinks every little smile and gesture the blond makes. There is no sign nor hint of the terrified boy Harry remembers finding crying in a cold bathroom, no sign of the gaunt face he remembers staring back at him at Malfoy manor, eyes flashing with resigned defiance as he lied to save Harry’s life. The Draco Malfoy Harry sees now is a confident, handsome young man that oozes charm and charisma, and Harry can’t stop staring.

Unfortunately for Harry, it is with that dumbfounded expression that Draco “Beefcake” Malfoy catches him as he turns around, his grey eyes widening for a second as their gazes meet before a slow, sly smirk spreads across his face, eyes gleaming with smug amusement. Harry’s breath catches.

The bastard _knows_.

And he _likes_ it.

Harry barely has time to collect himself and plaster a familiar, Malfoy-induced glower onto his face before that tall, _tall_ blond approaches him with the most sinful saunter Harry had ever had the fortune to witness.

“You could at least pretend to be disinterested, Potter.” He says in a slow, relaxed drawl as he finally stops right in front of Harry, not hesitating for a second in reaching down - _down!_ \- to pluck Harry’s full glass of bubbly champagne from his hand, bringing it to his nose and swirling the drink inside. Harry can only stare, lips parting in an attempt to find something to say. He is quite sure he was going to have a crick in his neck later from having looking so high up in order to look Draco Malfoy in the eye. When did he get so tall? “Honestly, Potter,” Malfoy huffs, but the sly, satisfied smirk that tugs at his lips tells Harry he quite enjoys his pitiful, desperate attention.

“You, you are taller.” Harry finally manages to croak.

Malfoy snorts. “Such keen observation, Potter. How were you not a Ravenclaw remains a mystery to this day.” He drawls, and just like that, the spell is broken and Harry is a teenager again, wanting to hex the hell out of that smug face. He straightens up, stretching himself to the most of his height. Sharp green eyes narrow behind his glasses as he glares up at him, blazing with an old, familiar irritation that only Malfoy had ever managed to stir in him.

“Still a prat, I see.” Harry hisses, scowling. And Malfoy is, still. A very handsome prat, but still almost the same as Harry remembers, and Harry hates that somewhere deep inside him, he finds that intriguing. “Glad to see _some_ things never change.”

Malfoy has the audacity to laugh.

“Ah, yes. Some things never change, indeed.” He says with an amused twinkle in his eyes, seemingly indifferent to the storm he stirs inside his childhood nemesis. “Good to see I can still get _you_ so worked up.”

“I am _not_ worked up!”

“Of course not,” Malfoy smirks, and Harry almost feels like a child, his cheeks burning with embarrassment at his outburst that proved the exact opposite. He glances around, making sure no one had seen him explode like that. Satisfied that his humiliation remained safe between him and Malfoy, he turns to glare back at the blond.

“Why are you talking to me, Malfoy?” He demands in a hushed growl. “What do you want?”

Malfoy taps a finger across the rim of the glass once, twice, as if deep in thoughts, grey eyes watching Harry with a calculating gaze.

“You.” He eventually says.

Harry chokes on air.

“I- er, you, _w-what_?”

“You asked what I want.” Malfoy shrugs, then hands a shell-shocked Harry Potter his glass back. “And I daresay you want the same thing, if the way you were ogling me mere minutes ago is anything to go by. I’ll wait for you outside, on the balcony. Should be private enough. Don’t make me wait too long, hm?”

And with that, he turns around and walks away.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me at [tumblr](http://tamyourue.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Reviews are food for a writer's soul.


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